Saphira Shrinks
by The Misty Jewel
Summary: Since dragons never stop growing, Saphira grows too large, and can't get enough food. Eragon must go on a quest to save his dragon.
1. Problems

**Saphira Shrinks**

By The Misty Jewel

Eragon woke with a start. He had been daydreaming about Alagaesia and his family again. But then a thought struck him: What family? He'd been alive for 1,874 years since he was a dragon rider, (Not that anyone was counting.) and unless Roran was a rider as well, there was probably another grave somewhere.

The new revelation startled him. And since he was thinking of family, his thoughts strayed over to Brom, and Garrow, both of whom had died because of him. And these thoughts led to Eragon having one of the worst mornings he could remember.

He sat up on his bed. It's crisp white sheets and blankets sighed as he stood. Then he went over to the dark wooden wardrobe in the corner of the room and got dressed. The carpet was warm, soft designs of dragons and magical beast covering it. It had been a gift from the elven nation, ruled by Queen Arya.

Eragon sighed again, then went to the bathroom, where he splashed cold water on his face to shake himself away from those unpleasant thoughts. Then he went to the main hall, which was as big as a cathedral, so dragons could come and go freely. However, even the size of this hall was not big enough for Saphira. In fact, she could barely fit her head inside of it.

Eragon strode purposefully to the dragon egg hatchery. He opened the door cautiously, (For there had been several incidents when wild dragons hatched, and were _very_ hungry.) and was pleased to see that no eggs had cracked today.

Still waiting for the right moment, he assumed, though for what, he wasn't sure.

Eragon spun on his heel and walked to the large front doors. He opened them with magic, since they were too heavy for him otherwise.

Saphira lay outside, curled against the building like a rather large puppy, asleep.

_Rise and shine,_ Eragon said to Saphira, who was snoring loudly.

Saphira woke and looked at Eragon. Her slit pupil was as tall his he was. _For a moment, I almost thought it was a dream,_ she said wistfully.

_What? _Eragon was confused. This was the first time Saphira had been openly sad in centuries. Usually he had to dig into her mind to get even the smallest hint at what was wrong.

_I almost thought that being so huge was a dream._

_What do you mean?_ Eragon asked. Now he really wasn't understanding her.

_Look at me, Eragon. I cannot stick my head in your puny home, much less go all the way in. I have grown so tall, and so strong, that no beast challenges me, and now I am getting too large. _The dragon dropped her head to meet Eragon's eye level, but her chin hit the ground before she could go low enough to be level with him. Her eyes remained several yards higher than he could reach.

_Saphira, you will always be the right size for me,_ Eragon told her kindly.

_Yes, but not for me! _Saphira's mind boiled with rage, and behind that, was it fear? _I can barely feed myself, Eragon! I am weak from hunger, for I'm too immense to be satisfied. __If I cannot get enough to eat soon, I'm going to die._

Eragon looked at Saphira with a critical gaze. He studied her, and realized that what she had said was true: Her ribs were showing. Soon, she would starve.

_But how can we fix it?_ wondered Eragon, _I don't know a word from the ancient language that can fix this, or make you smaller, and I cannot leave. What if one of the dragon eggs hatch?_

_Well, we need to find a way, and fast. I may starve if I don't do something soon._ Smoke rolled from Saphira's nose. She always did that when she was upset.

_I will go talk with the dragons. You stay here, and conserve your energy; we don't know how long it will take to fix this._ Eragon told Saphira, then sprinted away to the dragon nursery, where he was sure one of the older hatchlings could give him a ride.

Well guys, how bad did I do? This is my first ever Fanfiction, so I'm open to suggestions in the comments. Just don't spam, swear, or rage please: No one needs to deal with that.

Also: I might be changing my formatting and whatnot, so a forewarning to you: If my next chapter looks completely different, don't be surprised!


	2. Zarjeo

**Saphira Shrinks**

By the Misty Jewel

Chapter 2- Zarjeo

Eragon rushed to the dragon nursery, where, unlike the dragon hatchery, little dragons were growing up. Saphira often took care of them, and some other times, a few wild dragons would come by, and care for them as well.

Before he went back inside, Eragon considered his humble house. The smaller rooms were mostly underground, but the entry hall was above. It was made of light gray stones, with clear windows that rose high up until the ceiling. It stood proudly, but it didn't make Eragon feel proud. All that ever happened here was he trained people. Smaller people, younger people, and different racial people. He'd trained dwarves and elves, Urgals and humans, and in one particularly confusing time, all four at once. But when did Eragon get to see his training go to use? When did he ever see that it made a difference in the world? Eragon could not go to Alagaesia, and see what his apprentices did. So he could never feel as though he accomplished anything.

Eragon shook his head, clearing his thoughts, then rushed inside to the nursery. He opened the door, and beheld the room. It was built of the same gray brick as the outside walls, and had a very soft carpet so that the young dragons could sleep well. A big flap was in one wall of the room, so the dragons could go in and out as they pleased. Eragon had doubted if the smallest dragons could be trustable out on their own, but he shouldn't have worried. Dragons were the toughest creatures he'd ever encountered, and he doubted the local wolves could best them.

Inside were roughly a dozen dragons. The smallest was a beautiful earthy brown, the second smallest an almost black green. There were a few different blues, a couple reds, a white and a dragon that actually changed color to camouflage itself. A pink and orange dragon played in one corner. Eragon went up to a light green dragon, the largest of the hatchlings. Although most hatchlings didn't get a name until they were about ready to leave, this dragon did have a name.

_Zarjeo,_ Eragon said, _Saphira is ill, and I must consult with the dragon council. I came to ask if you would fly me._

_Of course!_ Zarjeo beamed, excited to help Eragon, for dragons everywhere loved him for how he had saved their race. _I would carry you around the world, but I don't think I can quite yet. I think I can get you to the dragon council, though._

_Thank you, Zarjeo, I will be in your debt._ Eragon said formally.

_Think of it as me paying off mine._ Zarjeo's thoughts were jubilant, _I think every dragon owes you and Saphira a debt, Eragon, and now I can pay one back!_

Eragon considered this. He had not realized that dragons thought highly of him, but when he thought it over, it seemed to be plausible. He had saved them by caring for the first dragon eggs, and taught the first hatchlings. And he had therefore raised the first wild dragons in a long time. And from then on, dragons came to him now and then, and asked if he would look after their eggs and hatchlings until they were older. And every time, Eragon took them with no questions asked. He felt it was his duty to. And so he and Saphira looked after eggs, and sometimes when a dragon wanted one or another to be a Rider's dragon, he and Saphira would make the eggs Rider's eggs, and after a while would send them back to Alagaesia.

When Eragon totaled all this up, he realized that this was a fairly good reason that dragons would regard him highly. He supposed that to the dragons he raised, he was very important and respected.

Eragon took a spare saddle off the wall in the entry hall. He kept a good twenty always ready, in varying sizes and types. He took a small one and placed it on Zarjeo's back.

_Hows that feel?_ He asked.

_Good, it feels like it conforms to me._ Said Zarjeo. _It's supposed to feel like that, right?_

_Of course._ Eragon smiled. _Now if you get tired you have to tell me. I don't want to exhaust you, okay?_

_Okay._

Eragon tied all the knots and mounted Zarjeo. He then loosely tied the knots around his legs so he could slip them out and in. _Now what you want to do is fly fast, and don't worry about height as long as you can stay above the trees._ Eragon told him mentally.

_Got it boss!_ Zarjeo walked outside through the door which Eragon, in his haste, had forgotten to close. Eragon then did so before they took flight.

_Ready?_ Zarjeo asked.

_Ready. _Eragon responded, and Zarjeo leapt into the sky. He was a big dragon, but Eragon's weight pulled him earthward. With a burst of extra energy, he launched himself higher, struggling to maintain the same height. They began to dip, and fall back to the ground. Eragon launched into action, speaking his words rapidly. They were words of the ancient language, and Eragon put power in them. His command sent his energy to Zarjeo, who used it to fly.

_What did you do?_ Zarjeo asked, knowing Eragon helped him somehow.

_I am feeding you my energy. You are too young to be ridden, and I should have walked, but time is of the essence, so for now you will just use my energy slowly._

_Won't that hurt you?_ There was worry in Zarjeo's mind.

_I have plenty of energy. Do not worry. It would take a couple years to exhaust me._ Eragon said, and it was true. He had practiced magic so many times that his power had grown immensely. He doubted loss of energy would ever be a problem. The only problem was he didn't have all the words. Specificity, the words that meant shrink.

After about half an hour, they arrived at a plateau in the forest. The dragons had raised rock from the ground here, and this was where they met, and gathered for meetings. There were no plants on top, just the flat, lifeless rock.

Zarjeo landed heavily and Eragon dismounted. _You're sure you're okay?_ He asked.

_Of course. You are the one that used up energy all the way here. I'm fine._ Zarjeo said. He didn't like being treated like a tiny hatchling. He was almost an adult. He could almost blow fire, but not quite yet. Whenever he tried, it stayed back in his throat, as if it was waiting for something.

_You remind me of Saphira in so many ways. I suppose all dragons act like this to humans, after all, they have a reputation to uphold, but still._ Eragon beamed. _You've grown up too fast Zarjeo, just like every other dragon I've taken care of._

Eragon called out mentally to several dragons who he knew were highest ranking. He stood on the rock face, and tapped his foot, waiting patiently. Zarjeo snorted and ruffled his wings several times, not quite as patient as Eragon. _When will they get here?_ He asked.

_Don't worry._ Eragon told him, _They'll arrive soon._

And just as he said this, five dark shapes lifted from the surrounding areas. They were a great deal away, but Eragon knew they would cover the distance quickly. He worried about Saphira as he waited. What if I'm not fast enough? What if she dies? What if... He forced himself to be calm, and waited, patiently tapping a rhythm into the cold rock face. He could wait.

So he did. He stood in the center of the meeting place, looking to the sky with the wind ruffling his clothes and whipping his dark hair into his eyes. He gazed at the shapes coming closer, and hoped with all his might that Saphira could be saved.

Zarjeo looked at Eragon. He had not realized just how alone the man was. He had been in the company of countless elves, and countless dragons, but it was not often that he ever stood in the company of another human. And Zarjeo realized that he was blessed to be raised by someone as good as this. And so he tried to calm himself like the older one, and stopped ruffling his wings, and pacing, and Zarjeo waited, and tapped out the same rhythm into the rock's stoney surface.

And together, they waited.

(A N) Hey guys! Hope you've liked this chapter. I'll be honest, I got a creative boost and did it all in the same night. Went on straight for about an hour, give or take. I tried to make a little shiver go through people at the end, make them touched, or whatever, but I extremely doubt I succeeded. Anyway, if you've got something for me to fix, tell me about it in the comments and I'll try my best! And if you wanted to congratulate me on my _amazing_ work (Just kidding) then do that too, in the comments below. Just try not to spam, swear, or rage. No one needs to deal with that. I hope you all have a great time reading, even if it isn't my stories!

-Misty


	3. Oswald

**(A/N) Hi people. Just wanted to say sorry for not making any chapters sooner. I had a long weekend at the cabin with my family, and I can't get any work done there because of the poor connection. But I'm back now, and I'm hoping to do a lot more to make up for lost time!**

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**Saphira Shrinks**

By The Misty Jewel

Chapter 3- Oswald

Some minutes later, the dragons landed. There were five in total, each different colors. One was a yellowing white color, another green. The third was a curious orange, almost peach, but not quite. The dragon closest to Zarjeo was a deep purple, and the one that landed in front of Eragon, (The leader, he supposed) Was a beautiful silky sweet black.

The black dragon spoke first. _Why do you call us? As leader of dragons, I have a right to know._ Zarjeo had guessed right!

_Saphira is ill, and I must cure her!_ Eragon told them mentally. He gave them a quick summation, then looked about, waiting for them to share their views.

_We know not the word you need. And it is a great loss indeed to her our savior is ill, but we cannot help you. There simply is nothing we can do._ The black dragon's eyes were saddened by the news. No doubt he held Saphira in the highest regard. _I am sorry, Eragon, Savior of Dragons, but we must go now. We cannot help you._

The dragons turned to leave, and Eragon was panicking. Sweat glistened on his face. _There must be something you can do!_ He yelled at the dragons mentally, _Please!_

But all the dragons took flight, and turned away from them, except for one. The yellowish white dragon remained on the rock, and looked at Eragon through it's deep eyes.

_There may yet be a way._ The dragon said, making Eragon freeze, and look back at it incredulously. _I know of a flower far in the mountains. It grows everywhere in one particular field, and it has properties unlike other herbs. It shrinks things._

_Where?_ Eragon asked, calming a bit.

_In The Unseen Valley. Go to Mount Tareb, and if you are worthy, you will find it._

_I must go then._ Eragon told the dragon, _Thank y-_

_There is one more thing._ The dragon lowered it's head to Eragons. _Other flowers grows in the valley. One is called the poison flower, and can kill anything that eats it. Another grows things, and many other flowers simply sit there. The Unseen Valley is cursed. You cannot leave with more than one flower, so you will have to choose wisely._

_Okay._ Eragon nodded at the dragon. _Thank you, so, so much._

_It is my pleasure to help the Dragon Saver. _The dragon took off into the sky. It flew overhead, making Eragon look up. Then he cursed. It was almost noon! He had to get back and save Saphira! He leapt up onto Zarjeo, and with a quick lung, they were on their way back.

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Eragon got back at dusk, and quietly thanked Zarjeo and ran to Saphira. She looked at him sullenly. _How was it, little hatchling?_

_I found a way to cure you! _Eragon said, elated, _I will tell the hatchlings to spread the news of your problem, so other dragons may help you, and to hunt for you, so you will have a bit more time._

_Okay, hatchling. But what will you do to stop it? _Saphira tilted her head towards him, expecting an answer quite plainly.

_I'm going to Mount Tareb, and I'm going to fix this._

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Eragon told the hatchlings to hunt for Saphira and tell every dragon to help her as well. He then packed a bag of provisions and weapons, and hung Brisingr at his belt. Then he was off.

Since Eragon was as much elf as human because of being a rider, he ran instead of riding a horse. Normally he would have ridden, but this was urgent, and when pressed, he could easily run faster than his horses. Dusk was pressing him, but on he hurried. To be honest, Mount Tareb wasn't far away; just under 20 miles, but Eragon didn't care. Saphira was in danger, and he couldn't afford to lose her. So on he raced, into the night.

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It was dawn when he stopped. He was at the foot of Mount Tareb. He wouldn't have stopped, except for the fact that he wasn't immortal, and still needed to eat. Sleeping wasn't necessary. Being part elf meant Eragon didn't need to sleep like normal people did. He just kind of went into a trance for a bit, and even then, he could still move about.

So as he prepared his food, Eragon allowed himself into this trance state. He put together a cold meal, and quickly ate it. Then he continued.

He was up Mount Tareb in no time. He remembered the instructions. _If you are worthy_. He hoped to all the spirits he knew of that he was worthy. So, not knowing quite what to do, he sat down and waited. He didn't know what for. For something to change. For something to be revealed. He waited for The Unseen Valley.

And he waited all day. And at noon, Eragon realized he wouldn't be _worthy_ unless he actually went around and did something, or at least tried to. So he did.

Eragon walked around the side of the mountain roughly four times before anything really happened. Then, as he was entering his fifth loop, he heard a cry.

A little boy ran up to him, crying. "What's wrong?" He heard himself ask. He didn't know why, but he was oddly disconnected from himself. It happened sometimes when he was in a situation such as this. When it happened, he could inspect the ordeal through much clearer eyes.

The boy sniffled, and looked up at the strange Elf. "Sir, the monster's gonna get me!" He whined in a small voice. He kept walking away from where he had come, catching his breath.

_I didn't realize people lived out here,_ thought Eragon, while the boy was gasping for air, _it's lucky I know their tongue._

"Did your sibling tell you there was a monster?" Eragon asked, thinking the child was scared of something that wasn't real, "Did you hear of it in a story?"

"No sir! It's following me right now!" The boy broke into sobs again, and knelt down in the grass.

Eragon looked at him in complete pity. The boy was scared out of his wits. He held out a hand. "Come here." He beckoned for the child to come take his hand. The boy sniffled, and looked up. Then, right when Eragon thought he had calmed him down enough, a shadow covered the grass where he and the boy where standing. The boy was sent into a fresh wave of terror, and began crying all over again.

Eragon frowned. He was no babysitter. He had never been good with children, and he doubted he would start now. He looked up at what was causing the shadow, and found an oddly tall figure standing there. It was blurry at the edges, no matter how hard Eragon focused upon it. And when it moved, an after image of it was left for a few seconds, so you could only vaguely see an outline. The figure (Whoever or whatever it was) Was a simple brown, with no color changes to indicate a face, or even a hand. And Eragon prayed that this was because it had a hood on. But deep down he knew it wasn't.

"Who are you?" He asked angrily, "Who are you to attack this young boy? He's done no harm to you, that's for sure!"

"That's where you're wrong." The speak of the figure blended, and repeated, in a chorus of many different voices. "The boy has started all of this. Do not let him touch you."

"Make the monster go away!" The child had stood up, but was still crying. "Please, please, make it go away!" He stumbled backward, and tried to stop his fall by taking Eragon's hand, but Eragon snatched it back. The monster had said not to let the child touch him. And he didn't know why, but Eragon believed him.

"Child, what's your name?" Eragon asked slowly, backing away from both of them.

"What kind of a question is that? It's gonna get me!" The child wailed.

"Answer the question." Eragon put steel in his voice.

The boy looked confused, as if never asked this question, but then responded. "Oswald."

"Okay Oswald. I don't want you coming near me for now. Is that understood?" Eragon asked.

Oswald blinked, then nodded.

"Don't trust him." The figure spoke up, "That's what he tells everyone who makes it this far."

"What do you mean, this far?" Eragon cocked his head at the strange figure.

"He touches people, and they disappear. All that's left of them is an after image. That is us." The figure indicated itself by sweeping it's arms out.

Now Eragon was thoroughly confused. "What?" He looked at Oswald, which, quite disturbingly, had gotten closer to him.

"What are you playing at?" He asked Oswald suspiciously.

"Please protect me from the monster." Oswald put on his scared, crying face again, but Eragon saw right through it.

Something else was playing here, not just a little boy and a demon. Something that might best him if he wasn't careful. And so Eragon wisely took seven huge steps away from both the boy and the figure, so he was positioned between them. Then then, he began to think.

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**(A/N) So, how bad did I fail? Review me, and comment on my work! I'm perfectly fine with compliments AND criticism by the way. Just don't spam, rage, or swear. No one needs to deal with that.**

**Also- I may be changing my 'time lapse' lines (The XXXX thingys) so if you see some random something one my next chapter don't be surprised.**

**Have a good time reading, even if it isn't my story! -Misty**


	4. Questions

**Saphira Shrinks**

By The Misty Jewel

Chapter 4- Oswald

Eragon stood between a creature that looked like a blurred after image, and a boy that seemed a bit _too_ innocent. He looked back and forth, not knowing what to do. _Well,_ he reasoned, _I may as well start at the beginning._

He looked to Oswald first. "Tell me your version of the story. Don't exaggerate." While Oswald was talking, Eragon worked into both his and the creature's minds. Both, strangely, were blank, or at least appeared to be, but when Oswald began his story, a orangish lightning crackled around in his head. _Most odd._ Eragon thought.

"Stop." He told the boy. _Time to do an experiment, _he thought. "Say a lie. Just lie to me. I want to see what happens."

Oswald looked at Eragon quizzically. "Okay," He said slowly, "The sky is red."

Inside Oswalds mind, the same orange lightning occurred. Eragon became ever more curious. "Okay. Good. Now this time, say something that is obviously truthful."

Oswald got a dark look on his face. When Eragon looked back at him, Oswald paled, and quickly said, "The grass is green."

This time a shock of purple lightning shot through. "Now." Eragon turned to the blurry figure. "Your turn. Say a lie, then say a truth."

The chorus of voices answered. "There is no mountain." The same orange lightning. Then, "Ships sail the ocean, not the land." Purple lightning. Eragon looked at Oswald, now knowing what to expect if a lie was told. To his surprise, Oswald had covered half the distance between them while he'd been focusing elsewhere.

"Don't do that." Eragon's voice was edgy. "If you do that again, I will cut you in two before you can call _me _a 'Monster.'"

Oswald edged back, shame faced.

"Tell your story again." Eragon looked to Oswald, and payed attention to his mind.

"I was walking to the well to get water, when _it_ began chasing me. And I've been running for almost an hour. Then I found you. Now I'm completely lost, and I doubt I can get home, even if this monster stopped chasing me!" Oswald put on a convincing face, but Eragon could see the lie completely. Oswald's entire head was crackling with orange explosions.

"Okay." Eragon looked to the blurred figure. "Your story?"

"We are many souls that the child has taken. He touches you, and steals the rest of your years. You are left like this, an after image. He is after you because he senses you have many years left. We follow him for revenge, but never can we harm him. We can only try to save his future victims. The child is a kind of spirit called a soul snatcher." The voices ceased abruptly, and to Eragon's absolute horror, the purple lightning flashed.

"Next question." Eragon gripped Brisingr tighter, and turned to Oswald. "Are you in any way violent? Do you in any way wish to harm innocent people?"

Oswald shook his head. "I know not of what this creature speaks of. My only wish is to get home, and away from this place." Orange lightning.

Eragon turned to the figure. "Same question for you."

"We are peaceful, except that we want vengeance on the soul snatcher." The creature said. Eragon frowned. It wasn't lying when it said it wanted vengeance, but it was when it proclaimed itself peaceful. As he pondered this, a twig snapped behind him, and his train of thought broken.

"Watch out! He's crept up behind you!" The figure pointed a blurred finger behind Eragon. In a split second, Eragon registered it as speaking true, and he whipped around to see Oswald, his hand outstretched, almost touching him.

Eragon wielded his sword with expertise, instincts taking over his arms and hands, and true to his word, slashed at Oswald. The boy fell back, a deep, wide cut on his chest, only a hair's breadth from his heart. Eragon looked in horror at what he had done. The boy's blood was on his blade. He had never even _thought_ of hurting a child. Yet now, he had done so.

"Why did you do that?" Eragon asked.

"I was scared of the monster!" Oswald cried, "Please, can you help the wound? It hurts!"

Eragon looked upon Oswald, utterly stumped. The little boy was paling from loss of blood, and soon he would black out. But Oswald wasn't trustable. And Eragon couldn't risk it. Saphira was at stake here, as well as himself. "I cannot help you." Eragon told him, his heart panging with regret, and pity, "I cannot trust you, for I see that both of you are liers."

They both looked at him then. And realization dawned on Oswald's pale face. "You were reading my mind!" He screamed angrily, "That makes me so mad-"

"That your prey is smarter than you?" Interrupted the blurry figure, "That for once, a person actually fights back?"

Eragon's heart skipped a beat. He _knew_ what this was about! He had learned about it, after all. They were _both_ spirits. That's why their minds were blank. Because they weren't interpretable by humans. The blurry figure was made of all the spirits of Oswald's victims. That's why it's voice had so many other voices. And Oswald, as the figure had said, was a soul snatcher. Eragon had heard about them. He'd thought them myths.

Eragon leapt over, and, without pausing, because he knew he wouldn't do it if he thought about it, plunged Brisingr into the little boy Oswald. 'Oswald' was just a thin skin that kept the soul snatcher safe, and hidden, and with the skin punctured that much, it dissolved into black smoke, screeching. _He hadn't been a boy at all,_ Eragon consoled himself, and then turned to face the blurry creature.

"Thank you." It said, but Eragon stopped it.

"You want to possess me, don't you?" He asked. "Being deprived of your body for so long...It's twisted your mind, and now, in your justice, it is fair to gain back lost time by possessing other people."

The creature was silent. It stared at Eragon, even though it lacked a face. Then it raised a hand, and one spirit there detached itself from the others, and sailed to Eragon, trying to take over his body.

"Oh no you don't." Eragon swung Brisingr and killed the spirit quickly. Then he drew his bow, and, before it could react, took an arrow from his quiver and fired. A few souls dissipated, but the figure was made of many. Eragon needed another way.

The figure snorted. "We're made of almost a hundred of spirits. There is no way you can kill all of us." Then it morphed into two figures, and those two into two more. Now there were four blurred shapes in front of Eragon. It continued until there stood roughly seventy blurry, dangerous figures.

Eragon needed another plan. He swore, then sped off a list of ancient words that brought him hovering in the air, able to see all the spirits. He would have to use magic, even though he usually tried not to.

"I'm afraid," He said, gritting his teeth, for today had been _very_ taxing, "I'm afraid you've miscalculated." Then Eragon spoke one word. It was the first ancient word he'd ever used. His sword's namesake. "Brisingr!" The figures caught fire. They were weak when they didn't join forces, Eragon guessed, and no match for a fire when not all together. Eragon looked at them. "Why you couldn't leave peacefully, I don't know."

He stalked away, hoping to get back to the top of Mount Tareb before anything else happened. But before he could go, the rocks at the top of the mountain shimmered. He glanced up tiredly. "Up we go, then." He said to himself, and without pause, began the climb.

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**(A/N) Hey! I'm sorry if this chapter was darker than normal: I just didn't know how else to end it other than that. I couldn't get rid of all that work and start over, now could I? Anyway, if you didn't like it, review me, or comment my work! If you liked it, then you can still comment! I don't mind! Just don't spam, rage, or curse. Nobody needs to deal with that. I will try my best to listen to your comments as I go!**


	5. The Unseen Valley

**(A/N) Hey! As I was writing this, a thought struck me. If you want to post this on another website, that's cool, but you have to give me credit, and not pass it off as your own. Also- I got a comment asking if this is an ExA (Eragon x Arya, I believe) and I can say that no, that's not this. Sorry to anyone hoping for that. But that **_**did**_** give me a few good ideas, so maybe some other day! Thanks for reading! -Misty**

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**Saphira Shrinks**

By The Misty Jewel

Chapter 5- The Unseen Valley

Eragon walked slowly up the steep hill to the top of Mount Tareb. He was tired, and exhausted, both physically, but also mentally, because he had used magic. He decided to rest for a bit, and sat on a mossy boulder. He put his elbows on his knees, and his head in his hands. Then Eragon let out a long, long sigh. How could he have stabbed a _child_? He knew it had been a soul snatcher, but how could he? Had he known for sure, or had he just gotten frustrated, and tried his luck? He felt horrible, with that sick stomach feeling, like he'd forgotten something important, or he was going to be late for a huge council meeting.

_I know what's making me feel like this_, he realized. It was Saphira. He used her like his moral compass, just as she used him in the same way. And now, since he couldn't waste her energy by contacting her, he was lost. _I _am _the hatchling she always calls me._ Eragon told himself, _I'm as lost right now as I was when I just started._

To keep his thoughts at bay for now, he began the ascent again. After a few minutes, he had arrived at the top of Mount Tareb, or, in this case, where the top uses to be. The shimmering stones disappeared when he stepped foot upon the first one, and revealed a valley, filled with gently swaying meadow grass, and flowers. Eragon marveled at the flowers. There must have been thousands of them. And there were so many colors, and shapes, and sizes, that it took awhile for Eragon's keen eyes to find where the grass began and the flowers stopped.

He worked his way down the side of the valley. Several times the stones under his feet loosened, and slipped, and almost made Eragon tumble the rest of the way down. After a bit, he made it to the valley floor, and looked around. _Now to find the right flower,_ he thought.

He walked aimlessly around, not sure where to begin. As he walked, Eragon noticed many odd, but wonderful plants. There were flowers with snapping jaws, flowers the were see through. There were plants of every kind that Eragon could think of, and many more that he couldn't identify. After a while, Eragon came upon a huge boulder, roughly in the middle of the field. He wondered how it had been hidden, but realized that because it was weathered, many plants had taken root upon it. When Eragon brushed back the petals and leaves, he found something quite odd. There was an inscription on the rock, in miniscule letters, to fit a huge amount of data onto it. It was written in the ancient language. _An instructional writing?_ he thought, _Of course. Why am I not surprised? But how did someone get in here? And how could they have known the ancient language?_

He knelt down, and inspected the writing. Once again, he marveled at the ancient language: Whatever language it was translated to, it would still rhyme when read or spoken, because the author, whoever it was, had wanted it to rhyme. So he read it in his native tongue, out loud.

_Those who a flower seak,_

_must not be of the weak._

_Magic words work not in here,_

_and those who speak them disappear._

_For he who wants a flower to fight,_

_seek the one that looks to bite._

_Find the smallest of this sort,_

_and plant it in thous own fort._

_You will not be overthrown,_

_if every day you feed it a bone._

It continued like this for a very long time. Eragon read about plants to cure sickness, and plants to extend life, even plants that could take you from place to place instantly. But there wasn't anything on shrinking yet! Eragon grew frustrated, and continued reading, even though the sun was starting to set. Finally, when he had almost quit, he found it. The instructions for someone wishing to shrink or grow something.

_If you wish to change your size,_

_seek a gray flower for your prize._

_Walk towards it watching with much care,_

_for there also lies a Snapping Flare._

_Use only it's roots, it's petals will kill,_

_freezing you in an icy chill._

Eragon squinted. Had he read that right? He certainly didn't think so. Perhaps it was a trick of the fading light. But no, there it was, plain as could be. He swallowed. Once again, there were a million things he didn't understand about the instructions. He knew the Snapping Flare would be in the inscription somewhere, but Eragon didn't have time.

Eragon began to walk through the field again, confident he knew what he was looking for. But as the dusk settled to night, Eragon couldn't see the colors of the flowers, and was forced to quit his search. _I would enhance my vision, or start a fire, but it told me not to use the ancient language._ Eragon thought. For whatever reason, he believed that what the stone said was true. That if he used magic, he would disappear, and quite possibly die.

Eragon looked about. There was no real shelter in the valley. He didn't want to leave it, for fear of not being able to come back. Indecision came over Eragon. He couldn't just stay in the open! What if something dangerous prowled this flowery field at night? Eragon had been in more than enough situations to know that if something was 'too good' it was likely to have a bad side as well.

Eragon in the end decided a fairly simple plan. He pulled a bunch of weeds and grass out, and laid himself in a nook between a large rock, and the side of the valley. Then he spread his bundle of grass over his feet, then his legs, then his chest. Finally, Eragon spread the rest of his diminished bundle over his neck, and arms. _A humiliating way to stay, to be sure. But it's better than getting a nasty surprise in the middle of the night._ Eragon told himself. He drifted into his trance state again, knowing that this could prevent something disastrous.

Little did he know it actually would.

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Late in the night, Eragon was startled the sound of rustling in the fields. Not calm rustling, the type when grass is stirred by the wind, or when a squirrel walks through the field. But a loud, disturbing rustling. Eragon peaked from his hiding spot, scarcely moving, just looking.

In the middle of the field there sat an immense shadow. Even though it was dark, Eragon could still see a few details. It was a furry, with horns of some sort. It's legs were oddly bird-like, even though they were still covered in the same fur. Yet, although in almost everything of it resembled an animal, it walked upon two sharply angular paws, and not four. Eragon gulped. He pulled the grass around himself tight, and made sure nothing would give him away. Then he laid his head back down. But when he put his head back, the slightest, tiniest twig snapped. Not even a real snap! A normal human wouldn't pick up the noise, but Eragon did, and he knew that the beast did too.

The beast stiffened, and turned it's giant head to gaze upon the corner where Eragon lied. It's eyes glowed a faint blue color. Eragon cursed himself for being so stupid silently.

The animal cocked it's head at him, and raised it's too-long arms. Thin claws, at least a foot long each, extended from it's fingertips, as if materializing. The claws glinted in the moonlight, malevolent, and eager for blood. _Extendable claws!_ Thought Eragon, _just like a cat!_ The beast rose, and turned to face Eragon's hiding place. Eragon scarcely breathed. Sweat trickled down his cheek, and he kept wanting to bolt, but he knew he wouldn't make it. The beast would outrun him. The creature in the field finally snorted, and turned back to whatever it was doing. And Eragon, too cautious to see _what_ it was doing, stayed in that position all night. He probably could have killed it, but he didn't want to risk it. There were still many things that could kill Dragon Riders in this world.

So Eragon stayed in his nook until the stars had changed places, and he knew night was nearly over. The animal snorted again. It had a dog's nose, from what Eragon could see. He was bewildered as to what it was.

Finally, the creature in the field began doing something. For hours, it had just wandered about. Now it yanked something big out of the ground, and bounded off with it. _It had been searching for a flower as well!_ Eragon was astonished! _But that still doesn't tell me if it would kill me or not, _he finally concluded, so he stayed hidden for the remainder of the night.

The daylight, he was sure, wouldn't have scared it away, but at least he had some advantage during daytime. So Eragon got up from his hiding spot at dawn, and crept out from the nook. The field was empty again. All he could find of the of the beast in the night were giant footsteps, and a hole where a tremendously large flower used to grow.

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**(A/N) I'm sorry to those of you who might have wanted a battle, or at least, an encounter with the beast, but you have to understand, I wanted at least a **_**bit**_ **of mystery in here. Not just fact fact fact ****fact. Perhaps another time! I'm also sorry to say that I won't be writing as much until the next friday, because that's when, at the latest, the school exams will be done. I will be doing my usual end-of-the-year-load-of-homework, and I'll also be studying for exams. So again, sorry, and I hope to see you in Summer Break!**

**Extra- Check out the new series 'InkSong' a Fan Fiction after the Inkheart Series. The book the series should have ended on! Me, and my friends Rioludoodle and Quillinx will also be contributing. Rio's is adopting Meggie as her character, Quillinx is getting Moe, I think. And I get my favorite character-Dustfinger The Fire Eater!**

**hope you check in! ****-Jewel**


	6. Saphira Shrinks

**Hey, sorry about not making any for a bit. My excuse is actually pretty valid, though. We had finals this week, and I wasn't able to juggle everything, so I was "responsible" and chose to study, and do homework. Again, sorry. I hope to finish this quick so that I can start a new FanFiction with my friends Rioludoodle and Quillinx. The story will be off of the InkHeart Trilogy. It's named Inksong, though that name was already taken. Hope you like this next chapter of Saphira Shrinks!**

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**Saphira Shrinks**

By The Misty Jewel

Chapter 6- Saphria Shrinks

Eragon began again to search for the flower. He spotted all sorts, but none of what he wanted. Some of the flower's purposes were obvious. A biting flower would guard a fort, a beautiful flower would make someone beautiful. Eragon imagined all the things that could be done with these flowers, but then he reminded himself he could only take one.

He searched for most of the day, and was considering turning in for the night. As he turned to go to the same nook between the rock and the slope, something caught his eye. A dainty gray flower with curving petals that ended in sharp points swayed in the wind in from of him. This is it, Eragon thought with certainty, this is the flower Saphira needs.

Eragon began walking towards it, but then remembered the 'snapping flare' in the instructions, and backed away again. He pondered how to get to the flower without taking a risk for a long time, eventually coming up with the simplest, most predictable plan possible. Eragon searched until he found a stick, then went back to the flower. He prodded the ground in front of him, testing for any other vegetation. When nothing popped up, he took a step. Then he repeated, again and again. He was nearly a yard from the flower when the ground he prodded writhed and a garish yellow plant came up. It had wicked sharp ends to both it's petals and it's leaves, and it's stem was covered in thorns completely, so Eragon had no clue if the rest of it was the same ugly yellow. And the biggest feature on it was that right in the center of it's flower, it had a huge snapping mouth filled with teeth, after which it was named. So this, he thought, this is the snapping flare. He went around it, prodding all the way. He circled the flower until a clear path to it was found.

It was getting dark, and if Eragon didn't hurry, another beast like the one from last night might return. Eragon dug the flower out, getting his hands covered in dirt, and reminding him of back when his home had been on a farm in Palancar Valley. He hated when he was reminded of that. There were too many things he'd lost there. It always got him emotional to think about Garrow, too. Eragon canceled the thoughts, knowing they would only distract him.

He raced out of The Unseen Valley, glad to be going far away from it. As he left, the rock face shimmered, and went back to normal, a solid, and black rock left over. Eragon began to run. He didn't need any more adventure. He could feel Saphira in his mind when he tried to contact her, but she was indistinct, and her words were fuzzy when she replied to him. He shut the connection off. He knew it would only drain her energy, and make it harder to save her.

Eragon ran far, long after night had settled and day had come again. He met no troubles on his way, nothing to slow him, which he was thankful for. As he ran, he noticed that the flower's roots were icy cold. It felt like he was putting his hands in some snow. Eragon remembered the instructions, about freezing you with ice if you used the roots. He slowed to a stop, and quickly wrapped the roots of the plant in some leather fabric he'd brought to keep him warm. I don't want to freeze before I get this to Saphira, Eragon told himself. It's good to be cautious.

Eragon ran back quick. Within the first few hours of daylight, he'd made it back to his home in the wilderness. Saphira lay in front of it, her head set on the ground in a dismal manner. _I'm here_, Eragon told her, _I've got your ticket to living again_.

Saphira tried lifting her head to look, but then set it back down. _I cannot waste any more energy, Eragon_, she said simply, _I trust that you brought it, so just feed it to me._

_I think you have to imagine changing your size_, Eragon told her, _you have to imagine becoming smaller._

_Okay then..._ came Saphira's incredulous response, _just take the seeds off, and the roots, because we could use those to grow more of these plants._

Eragon started. He'd almost forgotten that the roots were poisonous! He quickly cut the roots off, and took the seeds out of the flower. _Open wide_, he told Saphira. Saphira opened her mouth with a snort. Eragon plopped the stem and flower onto Saphira's tongue. He crossed his fingers and wished with all his might that it would work. That his hard work would pay off, and save his best friend.

Saphira swallowed. The plant, though large to Eragon, was small to her, so it looked as though she was having trouble finding where it was in her mouth. Finally, she swallowed again, this time getting the plant down.

Saphira looked at Eragon. _I'm imagining getting smaller, Eragon. Why isn't it happening?_ She asked. Eragon swore under his breath, and then sat down, head in hands.

_I don't know why it isn't working, Saphira. Perhaps I brought the wrong flower._ He felt pitiful now, like someone who'd had a bad day that couldn't be helped.

They sat like that for a few minutes, then Eragon noticed something. Saphira was slowly, slowly, slowly getting smaller. _That's it!_ He exclaimed to Saphira happily, _It takes a while, it's not instantaneous!_

Saphira's eye's warmed. _Yes, I suppose I _am _getting smaller. That, or the bushes are growing faster than any other known plant._

Eragon looked at Saphira then. _I'm very lucky to be a dragon rider._ He concluded, _And I'm very lucky that __you're my dragon._

_Oh please. Eragon. What other dragon could even put up with you? I'm very patient for my race, and even I sometimes can't see why I chose you._

_Shut up._ Eragon grumbled, annoyed at Saphira, but happy that she could be annoying again.

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It took a few hours for the flower to work it's magic completely. When it was done, Saphira was roughly the size of a large horse. She was as energetic as ever, and flew around roaring like there was something attacking her. When she finally landed after hours of flying, the younger dragons came out and rubbed their heads next to hers. They sat there for a while, a big, crazy, fire breathing family that no one would believe existed. And yet, Eragon realized, they were very much real. He'd just risked his life to save one, hadn't he?

Saphira was overjoyed to be able to go inside the house again. And in the celebratory mood, Eragon agreed to make a bed in the entry hall, so he and Saphira could be next to each other as they slept, just like when they'd been on the run. It was good to Eragon, to finally have Saphira back, the way she used to be. The way, he thought to himself, she was supposed to be.

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**(A/N) This is the last Saphira Shrinks chapter! I kind of ended it fast, but I don't know how else to end it. I've been really busy lately, which is why I couldn't get this out sooner. I had exams, then during the weekend I had a piano recital, and a high school graduation party to attend. Plus I've had yard work, chores, etc. Anyway, I will remind you that this is my first ever FanFiction, so no doubt a lot of you see work I could have done better. Tell me about it, just don't spam, swear, or rage. No one wants to deal with that. I'll be publishing a new story called InkSong. It's based after the InkHeart Trilogy. It's how me and my friends think it should have ended. However, my friends Rioludoodle and Quillinx are helping out with this. We each have one character, and this is as much theirs as it is mine. It's just that I'm the one publishing it. So give them credit too if you like the new story.**

**-The Misty Jewel**


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